The Tragedy of Rosalie Hale
by xxtwilight
Summary: A series of oneshots describing Rosalie's life before and after becoming a vampire. Please R&R.


**Note: I am not Stephenie Meyer nor do I own the Twilight series.**

**Hey guys! I was rereading Eclipse when I came to the section where Rosalie tells Bella about her past. The story she told was a bit brief, though, and I always wondered how she_ really_ felt at the time.**

**At first, I just wanted to write about her reaction to becoming a vampire. But then I realized I had to write about the events leading up to it to really get it right.**

**The next chapter will _probably _be Rosalie's POV as she is saved by Carlisle, or after she is turned into a vampire.**

**Hope you like it! Please leave me a review!**

_Cold, cold, cold._ The words swirled around in my mind as I stepped into the cobblestone street. The silence in the street was eerie and nearly palpable, the soft brushing of my skirt against the ground being the only sound and somehow intensifying it.

I chafed my hand against my arms for warmth, internally cursing New York for its perpetually changing temperatures. This morning the temperature had been pleasant and spring-like—I had even heard the _larks _outside singing. Honestly! Singing larks is nature obviously signaling the beginning of spring. Could New York's temperatures_ be_ any more fickle?

Suddenly, a frightening idea occurred to me. I was so dead set against it, my mind unconsciously tried to repress it, though this idea would not be minimized.

Would New York's unstable weather force the wedding to be moved_ indoors_?

Royce would be displeased—that was for sure. An indoor wedding meant a limited space, forcing fewer people to attend, thus shattering my _ideal_ wedding—the wedding I had always envisioned.

The picture painted itself in my head before I could block it.

_Flower petals showered the red, carpeted steps before me. Royce stood at the side of the altar, his blond hair shimmering slightly in the sun, looking dashing in a black suit, holding a red rose meant just for me_.

_My mother smiled kindly at me from the audience at the side of the garden. The aisle wound through the middle of the audience, each person turning around in their seats, craning their necks to try to get a better view of me_—_the bride_.

_As I stepped onto the aisle, a whistle sounded from a passerbyon the sidewalk_—_a watcher, though one of many of the wedding, and clearly uninvited. Of course people could not resist missing this celebrity event. I beamed, thoroughly enjoying the spotlight. From the way a collective, though politely quieted gasp sounded from the audience, I knew I must have looked stunning. "Ethereal," as Royce had once described me._

_My hair was piled into a wispy bun atop my head, though its messy look was fully intended, as I'm sure watchers were well aware. Several loose blonde ringlets framed my face enchantingly, __as I had been told._

_As I made my way to the altar, Royce caught my eye and winked, his mischevious smile turning my stomach to butter..._

Boisterous, obnoxiously rude laughter sounded close by, pulling me out of my daydream. A group of drunk men stood, gathered around a broken streetlamp. I frowned, suddenly uncomfortable. I wished I had brought a chaperone. The walk to home was so short, though, only a block or so, and it would have been _silly_ to ask my father for an escort—

"Rose! Here's my Rose!" The surprisingly familiar voice called out. Drunken laughter sounded afterwards.

Suddenly, I found myself being pulled—no, _jerked_—to the side of a road, under a broken streetlamp, by a man, whose voice could _not_ belong to...

"Royce?" I whispered in disbelief. The man who had grabbed my arm, roughly jerking me into the alleyway—right into the center of a group of five men—though well-dressed as he was, could not be_ my _Royce.

But reality made itself known. Royce, now nothing more than a drunk, laughed mockingly in my face and a bit too loudly.

"You're late. We're cold, you've kept us waiting so long." He drawled, his face a bit too close to mine, his breath heady with the sickening stench of alcohol.

Under the shock, an uncomfortable, denying confusion began to surface. I did not understand—did not _want_ to understand—what he was saying.

Without giving me the chance to say anything, Royce turned to a dark-haired man, a friend I recognized from an earlier engagement party, standing beside him. He was Royce's friend, having come up from Atlanta to see the wedding.

"What did I tell you, John? Isn't she lovlier than all your Georgia peaches?" Royce pulled me closer to him, and I tripped slightly, startled, as his chest caught my fall. He laughed, sounding stupid.

John, also clearly drunk, greeted me with a gaze I knew all too well. His eyes held nothing but pure, unadulterated lust and appraisement,their prominence probably a result of his drunkenness.

His gaze—one that I normally would have ignored, in any other place—now made me feel uneasy. Glancing around, the solitude of the street and the cold suddenly jumped out at me, igniting pricks of fear.

My pulse increased at the sudden realization of the potential danger.

John's eyes raked over my body, lingering at my cleavage. I squirmed uncomfortably in Royce's arms, but his hold was suddenly tighter—almost painfully so.

_Restraining_.

"It's hard to tell. She's all covered up." John drawled in a heavy southern accent, only intensified by his drunkenness.

The men all laughed stupidly—Royce included.

Now, fear truly settled into my system. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins as I realized the intent of his words. _Oh dear God.No, no,no, no,no, no, no!_ My mind screamed, shifting into high gear._This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This can't be happening._

I squirmed furiously in Royce's arms, trying in vain to free myself. But his hands, which used to restrain me, moved to my shoulders, grabbing fistfuls of fabricfrom my jacket—a gift from him. With a yank, Royce ripped the jacket off, sending brass buttons flying all across the street. I inhaled a gasp, trying to stifle my sudden terror. My stomach churned and bile rose in my throat as I shied away from the men, now sickeningly eyeing my bare shoulders.

"Show him what you look like, Rose!" Royce laughed obnoxiously. Terror overshadowed every other emotion, so much so that I could not even feel disgustedby his words. My chest jarred as Royce yanked the hat out of my hair, so deliberately and neatly coiled into place. The pins, having taken hours to be placed in my hair, clung to the hat, pulling sections of my hair out from the roots.

I cried out in pain.

The men—if you could call them that—laughed meanly, uncaring. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, both from the startling physical pain _and_ the betrayal.

One of the men from the circle—my eyesight was already blurry, and I didn't see who—shoved me backwards. I stumbled, falling into the street, and hit my head against a jutting cobblestone.

Laughter from the men rang faintly in my ears as I struggled, fighting unconsciousness. I felt a vague disapproval as Royce and another man, I wasn't sure who, leaned over me. In my dazed state of mind, I wondered why they weren't helping me up. As the cold became suddenly more prominent, with a stab of fear, I realized they were removing my clothes.

"No," I choked out, paralyzed from terror and the cold. Sitting up, I felt someone's hands gripping roughly at my legs. Feeling helpless, I flailed my legs, trying desperately to free them from the painful hold.

An unexpected blow suddenly forced the breath out of me, knocking me to the ground.

Whether it was from the pain, suddenly white-hot and searing all over my body,or the sheer terror of the moment, the scenery swirled around in my head as I shut my eyes tightly, begging unconsciousness to come.

And come it did.

**Hey! I hope you liked this. I feel like writing this chapter helped me understand Rosalie a bit better, and hopefully I will do a good job writing her reaction to becoming a vampire.**

**Please, please, PLEASE leave me a review as to whether or not I should continue!**

**_A million thanks_ to ALL my wonderful reviewers. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be writing!**

**-xxtwilight**

**P.S. To all my other readers, I _am_ stillkeeping up my older stories, but sometimes when inspiration comes for a new story it is hard to ignore it. Lol.**


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